My gum of choice in Italia is named HappyDent. It comes in small boxes and loses its taste pretty quickly, but the name is just so charming that I would always buy it. And let’s be honest, secretly I was calling it FeliceDent in my head.

I don’t mind admitting that I still hadn’t unpacked my boarding bag, and that it had been sitting under the far end of the kitchen table for two weeks. Last night when I was swiffering the kitchen I determined I should probably unload it, and I was shocked to discovered that HappyDent melts over time (or perhaps just from spending two weeks of dog days in a hot apartment). I reached into one of the pockets to pull out a pen and my hand was covered in what seemed like toothpaste. That’s what I get for leaving things so long…but I’m so used to things like that happening that it didn’t really disturb me.

Friday night was another beautiful wedding of two beautiful friends. They are both campus ministers, so they are liturgically literate and know many musicians. Ergo, there was a nice group of us making music together during the liturgy, and the music was creative and well-chosen.

Because this weekend’s Gospel was loaves and fishes, I sang a whole lot of Panis Angelicus this weekend. I really can’t complain, because I could have been singing “I am the Bread of Life” over and over instead. I know that song is a crowd pleaser, and I appreciate that it is meaningful and beautiful, but it is not a ton of fun to sing.